What I like about DC besides seeing friends which is the best part, is the bookstore Politics and Prose. It’s a fine bookstore, and I’ve walked to it from Dupont Circle more than once. I like walking around the monuments, and walking by the White House. I try to keep an eye on all the cameras everywhere and the security guys and the guys who are security guys but are dressed like normal guys, and I look at the guns on top of the White House which I think could shoot down incoming missiles. Washington DC feels like a southern city, a city with a fluid population, a muscular city with big decisions being made. It’s a city where money is wasted, where favors are traded, where cherry trees bloom in spring, where the strongest emotion in the air is desire, not a city rolling in young techies like San Francisco or corporate wealth like Seattle or corporate wealth meets arts culture like Minneapolis or old money like New York and Chicago, not a sprawl of stories like Los Angeles, but a city of need, desire, grit; what juices Washington DC is power. I feel the hum of it along the long Reflecting Pool, and I look down into the water where the birds live. The Reflecting Pool is full of shit. A slight stale smell hangs in the air and floats up to the Jefferson Monument and the Martin Luther King Memorial which for so long was hidden in the basement and hard to find. I always go there. I hear MLK’s and I believe in change.